The Scars of the Past
by The OC Architect
Summary: Nicholas Latimer swore he'd never get back into the whole 'gun-for-hire' business. After the disaster in Dubai, there was no way. His trust in others was broken and shattered that day. But when SHIELD calls Nicky in dire need of his assistance, who is he to refuse? He joins Coulson's team, building walls around himself. But can one hacker finally break through Nicky's defenses?
1. The Prologue

**Author's Note** : Here it is, folks! I forgot how long this opening chapter was...for the future, I have adopted the policy of writing shorter chapters, though! So you'll see that. It makes updates more frequent and it's easier on me. So anyway, enjoy this and thanks for sticking with me! :D

 **Rating** : T (for language and violence)

 **Disclaimer** : All rights go to Marvel. I own nothing but my OCs. Mainly Nicky Latimer. He's still badass.

 **Editing** : All editing is done by me, I take responsibility for my mistakes.

 _Prologue_

 **June 14, 2012 – Malibu**

Nicholas Latimer groaned as his phone went off, interrupting his blissful sleep. His room was about a thousand degrees. Okay, probably not, but it was hot. The fan above his bed was swinging on full blast. Something warm shifted in the bed next to Nicky's arm. He instantly remembered the liquor induced night that he'd had as the magnitude of his headache fully hit him.

In his bed, was a girl, naked, snuggling with _his_ panda pillow pet. Not cool, Stacy. At least, Nicky _thought_ her name was Stacy. After a moment of debate and deciding that it probably was Stacy, Nicky's phone buzzed.

Nicky yawned and stretched his arm out, feeling around on the dresser until his hand landed on his phone, which was ringing incessantly, only adding to his headache. What day was it? Friday. Did he have anything to do today? He thought for a moment until the phone buzzed again. Nope, no he didn't. One look at the alarm clock told him this call was urgent.

It was 3AM.

Nicky looked at the phone screen. The number was registered as 'restricted'. He grunted as he sat up and thumbed it open, pressing it to his ear. "'Ello?" His voice came out groggy and tired. The greeting was probably unintelligible to the person on the other end.

"Am I speaking to Mr. Nicholas Latimer?" The voice was rough and thick and Nicky knew it all too well. He really didn't want to know it all too well.

"To what do I owe the pleasure at 3AM, Director Fury?"

"We have a job for you, Mr. Latimer."

Nicky rolled out of bed, sniffing as the cold air hit his bare chest. He scrambled around on the floor for his boxers and jeans as he pulled the clothing garments on, balancing his phone between his cheek and shoulder. "No, really? I would have never guessed, Captain Obvious. What kind of job are we talking?"

"Four man squad, in and out. More information will be provided at the location, given you agree to our terms."

"That's not much to go on, Director," commented Nicky casually. He made his way to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. He took a bottle of beer out and used his counter to pop the top, taking a drink and waiting for Fury's response.

The line was quiet for a bit before Nicky got his response. "We'll pay you double your normal rate."

"Triple it and we'll have a deal," pressed Nicky.

"Two and a half or nothing," reasoned Fury, a bit of frustration leaking into his tone.

"My services don't go cheap, Nick," drawled Nicky.

"And SHIELD isn't your never ending bank supply. I'd take the job before I offer it to someone else."

Nicky mulled over Director Fury's words as he took another sip of his beer. "When do I start?"

"There's a quinjet waiting in a private airfield about fifteen minutes from your current position. It's leaving in twenty."

"That's not a lot of time, boss," commented Nicky as he sprang into action, leaving the half-full bottle of beer forgotten in the kitchen.

"It'll be enough if you want the money."

"Touché, Fury. I'll be there, sir."

"Nice to have you aboard, Mr. Latimer."

* * *

 **Thirty-two hours later – Dubai**

Nicky dove behind a pile of crates as a grenade exploded where he'd been standing just moments ago. He checked his M4A1 assault rifle and reloaded his clip. A burst of gunfire erupted over his head from where he was ducking down. Once the gunfire stopped, Nicky popped out from his makeshift cover and shot off a few rounds. A couple of grunts and thuds were heard as his bullets hit their mark and a few terrorists went down, dead.

Nicky ground his teeth in frustration as another grenade exploded, mere feet away from his location. He pressed a finger to his communications relay and spoke loudly. "Remind me why we're attacking a Ten Rings base in broad daylight? I was having a wonderful time with Stacy."

Lance Hunter, Nicky's old and closest friend from his days in MI6 when he worked with the British SAS, came over the wire a moment later. "Who's Stacy?"

"The girl I took home last night. The one I was with when you called?"

There was a vague snicker over the communications relay. "Her name was Samantha, Latimer. She introduced herself when you put me on speakerphone."

"What? No, I could have sworn it was _Stacy_."

"It wasn't. It was definitely Samantha."

Nicky frowned as he thought about Hunter's words. He put his arm up and fired a few blind shots over the stack of crates he was taking cover behind. "Well, that's awkward considering I addressed the note to a Stacy."

"What note?" More gunshots came over the radio link from Hunter's side.

"You know, the 'sorry for leaving you high and dry, please don't steal any of my stuff when you let yourself out, and while you're at it, lock up, please and thank you' note."

"You may have left her high, but I bet you left her anything but dry, Latimer," drawled Hunter sarcastically.

It took Nicky a moment to process Hunter's words as he took a grenade off of his belt, pulled the pin, and then waited a few seconds before throwing it blindly over his shoulder towards the sound of gunfire. A loud explosion was heard a moment later. "Oi, Hunter! Get your mind out of the gutter, mate!" Nicky barked.

"What you think that I thought you took her back to your place for tea and biscuits?! You're daft."

"Can we focus on the mission please? Our perimeter isn't going to clear itself, Latimer." Agent Bobbi Morse, one of Director Fury's best agents, came on the line. She was a few feet away from Nicky, behind her own cover, firing blindly at the terrorists. "Answering your earlier question, you're here because we're paying you. And we're paying you quite well," she grumbled. "Besides, someone's gotta get Doctor Killian outta here and cover our asses while Mack and I get the intel."

Oh, yeah. Doctor Geoffrey Killian. One of SHIELD's best field medics, captured by the Ten Rings. It was Nicky and Hunter's job to get him back. Oh, joy. Apparently, the man was some sort of medical genius and it was an absolute necessity to get him back into SHIELD hands. Nicky wasn't really sure what the fuss was about.

"Remind me also," grunted Nicky as he threw a smoke grenade over his shoulder into the middle of No Man's Land, "What that intel is supposed to be?"

Gunshots came over the line and Agent Alphonso Mackenzie's voice also came through, albeit the load of static interference. "You know we can't tell you that, Latimer. Have to keep you in the dark on this one."

"You know, I'd be much more inclined to help you guys if I knew why the hell I was helping you in the first place," muttered Nicky as he stood up and fired a few shots into the smoke screen, before running and taking cover behind an old fruit stand. Behind it was Agent Morse, thick blonde hair pulled up in a loose ponytail, free strands framing her face nicely. She was gorgeous, no doubt, but Nicky also knew that she and Hunter were seeing each other. It wasn't exclusive, but it was obvious.

Bobbi looked up at him as he slid to crouch beside her and started reloading his M4A1. "You know, the only reason you're actually here is because Hunter called in a favor to Director Fury so he wouldn't have to deal with two SHIELD agents by himself."

"Hey! You weren't supposed to tell him that!" snapped Hunter over the Bluetooth line. "For the record, I didn't want to deal with two uptight, rule-abiding assholes alone. I figured Latimer would make it less painful."

"You weren't calling me an uptight asshole last night," quipped Bobbi. _There it is, the admission_. Nicky could almost hear the secondhand embarrassment over the radio waves as Mack cracked up laughing and Bobbi smirked. Hunter was completely silent.

Nicky slapped a full cartridge into his assault rifle and stood up, releasing a hail of bullets into the smoke. He heard cries of pain and thuds as bodies hit the ground. He looked into the smoke, turning around, satisfied when he didn't see any movement.

Latimer hopped over the fruit stand and swung his M1A1 around, creeping into the dissipating smoke of No Man's Land silently. Content that it was clear, Nicky slung the assault rifle over his shoulder and began speaking into his microphone, "We're clear, how about –"

Well, he thought they were clear. That was until he heard a war cry and was suddenly gasping for air as he was forced into a chokehold. He felt the cold metal of a gun muzzle to the side of his head as his captor shouted something in Arabic.

"Latimer? Latimer, are you alright?"

"We're not clear!" he wheezed into his Bluetooth. "We are very not clear!"

Nicky's detainer tightened his chokehold around his throat, yelling louder. Bobbi stood up calmly from her hiding spot behind the stand. Nicky tried to shake his head, but it was no use. He was rapidly losing oxygen. The SHIELD agent replied in the man's native language and started to walk toward the two around the fruit stand. The man yelled again, holding Nicky even tighter and digging the barrel of the handgun into his skull.

Bobbi stopped instantly. Nicky noticed her hand slowly reaching for her back, but the terrorist didn't. He was still screaming, waving Nicky around, and not paying attention to Morse.

His funeral.

A moment later, a gunshot went off and the pressure around Nicky's neck loosened until it released completely and the man fell to the ground, dead, a bullet through his forehead. Nicky was breathing heavily, trying to get as much oxygen into his lungs as he could. He looked at Bobbi skeptically. "That man's head was really close to mine, doll."

"Yeah?"

"So how did you know you wouldn't miss?"

Bobbi winked at him. "I never miss, Latimer. Ask Hunter."

Nicky's face contorted into a disgusted expression. "I think I'll pass."

Bobbi smirked and started to sashay away, putting a finger to her Bluetooth. "Perimeter clear, how about you, Mack?" But Nicky caught a glint of something in the hot sun.

Nicky got out his Walther P99 as a man burst out from the cover of an old stone pillar and sprinted at Bobbi, knife in hand, shining like a diamond in the sunlight. He fired off two quick rounds. Both hit the man in the chest and he went down.

Bobbi turned around the sound of Nicky's sidearm and her gaze went from his gun, to the body, to Nicky. Mack's voice came through their earpieces, concerned about the gunfire from Nicky, but neither of them responded. There was a surprised look on Bobbi's face, her mouth open slightly, eyebrows raised. Nicky sauntered up to her as he holstered his sidearm and put his pointer finger to her chin, pushing it up so her mouth shut.

"Try and keep your jaw from dropping, doll, you'll catch flies."

Bobbi tilted her head a bit upward to look at Nicky. "Impressive, Romeo. And quit calling me _doll_."

Nicky just grinned in response and pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Perimeter clear, now, Mack. Quit acting all concerned. How're you two looking?"

There was one last explosion over the radio waves before Mack's voice came in. "I wasn't concerned, just wondering if Hunter and I would have to finish the op all on our lonesome. What fun would that be? And we're clear. Meet at the rendezvous point, _if_ you're sure it's clear."

"Copy, Mack. Be there in five," said Bobbi before Nicky could respond.

Bobbi and Nicky walked to the back entrance side-by-side. Bobbi broke the tense silence. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that, Romeo?"

Nicky chuckled at the name before responding. "Six years in MI6 before turning into a gun-for-hire with Hunter, doll. He was Special Air Services. We met on an operation in '08 in Basra, Iraq. Friends ever since."

"I didn't ask for a background, Romeo."

Nicky shrugged. "You didn't have to. You were curious; most people would be with someone with an aim like mine. Could be concerning to some. And quit calling me _Romeo_."

"As long as you stop calling me _doll_."

"Fine. Sweetheart."

Bobbi shot a glare at Nicky who just grinned. She stopped and before Nicky knew what was happening, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. It was faster than a blink, and Nicky was barely sure it happened, but judging from the slight blush blooming on Bobbi's face, it had. "That was a reward for saving me. Don't tell Hunter."

Nicky just grinned a bit. "You know, unless you're giving me more than a cheek kiss, I take my rewards in cash, please and thank you."

Bobbi rolled her eyes and kept walking, shooting Nicky a wink over her shoulder. They were approaching the back entrance, and neither Mack, nor Hunter was in sight yet. "We'll see, Latimer. We'll see."

Nicky followed a few steps behind, a childish smirk on his face. Maybe this op would be one of the easier ones.

* * *

Boy, was he wrong.

On so many levels, Nicholas Latimer was wrong.

The operation should have been simple. It should have gone without fault. _Should have_.

But it didn't.

It was easy. The squad would break-in the backdoor and take out the guards stationed there. Once inside, they would break into groups of two, Latimer and Hunter, Morse and Mack, and go to their respective missions. Morse and Mack would head to the mainframe and Morse would download the stolen intel, while Mack guarded the door. Latimer and Hunter would infiltrate to the sub-level of the compound where they kept the hostages and free Doctor Killian and whoever else needed rescued.

Normally, it would have been simple. In and out. It wasn't.

It went wrong the moment they entered the backdoor. The terrorists were ready for them, and the room instantly erupted into gunfire. As Bobbi and Hunter flipped over two tables to use as cover, a bullet slammed into Nicky's chest. His bulletproof vest absorbed most of the shock, but he stumbled back a few feet, trying to recover from the force. Another bullet clipped Mack's arm. It wasn't too bad, but it was enough to get it bleeding profusely.

The four split into two's: Nicky was on the ground behind one of the tables next to Mack, using a piece of cloth to try and cut off the blood flow and Hunter and Bobbi were behind the other table, providing a bit of cover fire. Nicky trying to stop the blood flow with a bit of difficulty. He tied off the piece of cloth and looked at Mack. "You good?"

Mack nodded. "I'm good."

Nicky nodded back and clapped Mack on his good shoulder. "Up and at 'em, killer."

Nicky bounced up and shot a couple of the terrorists before ducking back down. "How many were there, Morse?"

"At least six."

"How many did you and Hunter get?"

"Four."

"Oh." Nicky stood up, kicking the table out of the way. "I got two, that makes—"

He cut off as Bobbi fired off a quick pistol round over his shoulder. He turned in time to see the body fall. Nicky looked back at Bobbi abruptly. "Seven. Four plus two equals seven. Apparently."

Bobbi smirked as she holstered her sidearm. "I gave you an estimate, Latimer." She walked past him towards the hallway, hips swinging cockily. "I believe that's Bobbi two, Nicky one?"

Nicky snorted a bit. "Oh, it is so on."

The four continued into the base before entering a narrow corridor. It went both left and right. Bobbi pulled the map of the compound out of one of her pockets. She looked up after a moment and pointed right. "The database is that way. Mack, watch my back." She looked back at Nicky and Hunter. "And you two…don't die. I'd rather not do paperwork when I get home."

As Mack and Bobbi turned and crept away, Nicky muttered under his breath, "Yeah, we all know what you'd rather do. Or should I say _who_."

That earned a snicker from Mack over their radio signal, a whiny "Nicky!" from Bobbi, and a hard punch in the shoulder from Hunter. Nicky just smirked and the two men turned to the left and headed towards the staircase.

That's when things started to go really wrong.

Halfway down the staircase, there was a loud eruption of gunfire on the two mercenaries' Bluetooth's. There was a bit of shouting in Arabic, some static, and then Mack's frantic voice. "Bobbi's been hit! She's down, GSW to the stomach, just right of anything major. She's losing a lot of blood…I'm downloading the data."

Nicky cursed lowly, but continued down the stairs, until her realized Hunter wasn't following him. He turned and saw Hunter going back up the stairs. Nicky back up and grabbed Hunter's arm. "Where are you going?"

"Mainframe. I'm going to help Morse and Mack."

"Hunter, we have our orders, Mack can take care of it. Bobbi will be fine."

Hunter jerked his arm out Nicky's grip, eyes blazing. "You don't know that, Latimer."

"So that's what it's about? Really? Agent Morse?"

"Don't start this, Nicky," warned Hunter.

"Lance, don't you dare turn away from me now. We're so close to our objective, mate. They're paying us enough for us to retire for good. Hell, we could be sleeping on stacks of money right now."

"It doesn't matter, we have to help Bob."

Hunter turned and started to leave and Nicky took a deep breath. Hunter was walking away. His best friend. He was walking away from him for the first time in five years. Nicky's voice was ragged when he spoke, "Walk away…and I can promise you this is the last you'll see of our partnership, Lance."

Lance stopped and for a moment, Nicky had a glimmer of hope. But Hunter just looked over his shoulder and whispered a soft, "I'm sorry, Nicholas," then he kept walking. Once he hit the top of the stairs, he disappeared from Nicky's view.

Nicky felt ready to give up then and there. His partner was gone. He was sure he'd be overloaded once he hit the basement. He was going to die. But Nicky didn't give up.

He continued down the stairs with his M4A1 ready to shoot at any moment. Once he saw the basement, he got a lay out. There were about six guys. The initial holding cell was huge, about ten people inside, at least. But none of them were the doctor. They were all children, averaging anywhere from five to fourteen in age. Nicky cursed lowly. He hoped the kids wouldn't see him, especially the younger ones.

Unfortunately, one of them did. Two, actually. One of the older one's caught Nicky's eye and Nicky pressed a finger to his lips. She nodded in understanding. The younger one didn't get the memo. He yelled, pointing at the stairwell, alerting the guards to Nicky's presence. He dove off of the stairs and landed roughly, ending in a well-executed somersault underneath a table. The guard stationed there let out a surprised yelp and Nicky pulled out his sidearm, firing off a bullet to the man's head before bursting up and flipping over the table, providing minimal cover.

Nicky shot another guard who was stationed behind the table, struggling to load his rifle. He never got the chance as Nicky's bullet hit the man in the chest and he went down. Nicky risked a peek over the table. There was a second cell, off to the side of the large one. It was divided down the middle-ish. Inside, Doctor Geoffrey Killian was pacing, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.

He dropped his Walther P99 and unloaded his rifle over the cover of the table, then pulling it back to reload it. Problem for him was that he was out of new clips. Swearing, Nicky tossed the rifle aside and picked up his sidearm off the ground. He had one partially full clip and his Bo staff left. Great odds, really.

A hail of bullets exploded from behind the table over where Nicky was crouched down. After the spray stopped, Nicky stood up and fired at the man who was reloading twice. One bullet hit his chest, the other, his arm. Nicky vaulted over the table and rolled, sliding to the AK-47 the man dropped. He finished reloading it as the fourth terrorist started to fire at him. He let loose a flurry of sporadic bullets, hitting the man in the arm and the chest. The man collapsed to the ground. Nicky inched his way around to position himself behind the cover of a white plaster pillar, which was holding up the ceiling.

He tossed aside the AK-47 upon realizing that it was out of ammo. Three deep breaths and a new P99 clip later, Nicky exploded from behind the pillar, racing to where he was sure the second to last man was. The man was surprised, but not for long; Nicky put a bullet in his forehead.

Quietly, Nicky scouted out the remainder of the basement. There was no sixth man. That did not bode well in Nicky's gut, but there was nothing he could do about it now, but sincerely hope there were no alarms to be raised.

Nicky stole a pair of keys from one of the men's belts and unlocked Doctor Killian's cell. The moment the door unlocked, Nicky heard a gunshot and the right side of his neck exploded into thundering pain. Stars danced in his vision as he fell over. He felt a tug at his hand and when he hit the ground, he saw two bullets fire from his own sidearm in the hands of Doctor Killian.

The doctor kneeled beside Nicky, his vision blurry and beginning to black around the edges. "Come on, young man." He pulled Nicky out of the way and tried to get him up the stairs.

"No…no…" mumbled Nicky, reaching for the cell keys. "The kids…"

Just then, Mack's voice came over the Bluetooth. It was grainy and static-filled, but Nicky was able to make out a few words. "Latimer…get out…place…down…hurry!" Then the communications relay shut off abruptly.

Nicky struggled to stay conscious, and stood up with the help of the doctor. The doctor was staring at him in amazement. "Lay down, now, you need severe medical attention—"

"Doc…" Nicky swallowed roughly, his throat like sandpaper, his voice reverberating in his head. "We gotta…gotta get out." He spoke quiet enough, but there was a single question from the remaining hostages.

"What about us?" It sounded like a child, no more than eight years old.

"Now, Latimer!" Mack's voice cut through the static, frantic and afraid.

"Be…back for you," slurred Nicky, his vision going dark.

"Promise?"

"Promise," muttered Nicky as the doctor started to drag him along.

* * *

Doctor Killian and Nicky got out just in time. They were greeted with relief, but a thick tension hung in the air due to the severe injuries of Bobbi and Nicky.

Moments after they boarded the quinjet, the compound exploded.

* * *

The next few days were like a blur for Nicky. He was in and out of consciousness, struggling to hang on.

The moment the quinjet landed back at the Triskelion, Nicky was rushed to the medical center. He'd lost three pints of blood and his skin was taking to a sickly gray color. The bullet had penetrated deeply into his collar bone. The doctors put him and Bobbi on stretchers and they were taken into immediate surgery.

Both operations were successful.

The surgeons dislodged the bullet from Nicky's collarbone and stitched up the entrance wound. They stopped Bobbi's internal bleeding and fixed her up as well. Both Nicky and Bobbi were going to be okay. But the tense atmosphere was just beginning.

* * *

"I could have died, Lance! You left me to rescue that damn doctor alone!"

"Mack and Bob needed help!"

"So did I! If that bullet had been an inch to the left, you'd be at my funeral instead of yelling at me right now. We had a job, Hunter, and you screwed it up."

"If I didn't help Mack and Bob, who would have? They'd both be dead too, if it weren't for me!"

The tension in the room was so thick that you could have cut through it with a butter knife. Nicky and Hunter were standing up, arms flying, harsh words spitting at each other. Mack and Bobbi were sitting awkwardly to the side. Every time one of them tried to interject, they ended up getting shushed. They stopped trying at that point.

"You seem to forget that Mack is a trained field agent, Hunter," spat Nicky. "He could have very well handled things. You and I have been in worse situations."

"I made a call, Nicholas, and you can't respect that, you can leave."

"It was the wrong call, Lance. You must be stupid if you can't see that."

"Tell me what part was wrong? You and the doctor made it out okay. The guards were all killed. No harm done."

Nicky didn't speak for a moment, his face impassive. Lance crossed his arms across his chest, a smug expression slowly forming.

The amount of rage building up in Nicky's stomach was incredible. He couldn't recall one time that he'd ever been that angry. There was a knot in his chest that was getting tighter and tighter, begging to be released. Lance's next words made Nicky snap:

"See? You know I'm right. No harm done."

Nicky took two big steps toward Hunter and grabbed him by his shirt collar, forcing him back, slamming him into one of the walls.

There was a cry of objection from Bobbi. Both she and Mack stood up, calling out for Nicky to calm down. They were there in a moment, Bobbi putting her hand on Nicky's shoulder and Mack trying to get Nicky's hands off of Hunter's collar. Nicky threw a murderous glare at Mack and he backed off, hands raised in a surrendering fashion.

Nicky didn't let Hunter go.

"No harm done, huh?" snarled Nicky, his voice barely above a dangerous whisper.

"That's what I said, wasn't it, mate?" Hunter's face was twisted into a smug smirk.

"How about you go tell that to the children that were caged down there like freakin' animals?"

The smug grin slowly melted into a look of confusion.

"Yeah, you heard me. The children. There were more in that jail than just the doctor. There we hostages. Kids. No older than sixteen. The youngest around four. They were in a different cell, with a different key. I didn't have time to get them.

"Mack told us to get out of there. I was bleeding out. One of the kids asked what was going to happen to them. I told them someone was coming for them, Hunter. I _lied_ to them. And then…" Nicky's voice broke off into a hoarse sob before he could continue. "He made me promise, Hunter. A boy around eight years old made me _promise_ that someone would come back for them. Minutes later, the compound exploded. They're dead, Hunter. And it's your fault," finished Nicky, slamming Hunter into the wall one last time for effect.

There was a blank look on Hunter's face. He tried to dig himself out, failing miserably, "You can't put that on me, Nicky, it was your job to—"

"My job?" Nicky's voice was quiet with disbelief. " _My job_?! Hunter, it was _our_ job to rescue the doctor! _Our_ job to rescue the hostages! If you would have been there to watch my back, those kids would be alive. I wouldn't have gotten shot. I wouldn't have had to lie to children and then leave them, knowing they wouldn't survive. Don't you _dare_ have the nerve to blame this on me."

Hunter ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and then spread his arms wide. "What did you want me to do, Nicholas? If I'd have stayed with you, Bobbi would be dead!"

"And Bobbi knows the risks of her job!" Nicky looked over his shoulder half-heartedly at Bobbi. "No offense, Bob."

"Yes, but—"

Nicky held up his hand in defeat, taking a deep breath. He lowered his voice to an inside range and spoke softly, with barely controlled anger. "Fine. You want to try and put this on me, Hunter? Go right ahead." With an outstretched finger, Nicky jabbed Hunter in the chest. "But know in your heart that it's _your_ fault that there are children who are dead. That it's _your_ fault that there are innocents who were crushed by the explosion of that base. That it's _your_ fault you've ruined this partnership."

Nicky released him grudgingly and turned to leave, but Hunter grabbed his arm, a pained, yet irritated expression on his face. "What do you mean, 'ruined this partnership'? Where are you going?"

Nicky jerked his arm out of Hunter's grasp. "Do you remember what I said to you on those stairs, Hunter? I said, 'Walk away…and I can promise you this is the last you'll see of our partnership, Lance'. I keep my word, Hunter. You know that."

"Latimer, I would have never left if I knew you were being serious—"

"Don't start that shit with me, Hunter. You know I don't joke about jobs. This is your burden to carry. Deal with it. Good bye, Lance." Nicky looked past Hunter at the slack-jawed expressions of Bobbi and Mack. "Good bye, Mack. Bye Bobbi. It was nice working with you. Don't take it personally, but I hope I'll never have to do it again."

Nicky turned to go, and then looked back at Bobbi, a weary smile gracing his face. "What did I tell you, doll? You're going to catch flies."

He didn't wait for her response, but heard a small, choked laugh come from the agent. Turning on one heel, Nicky left the room and closed the door with a soft _click_ behind him.

Nicholas Latimer had meant what he'd said.

"Don't start that shit with me, Hunter. You know I don't joke about jobs. This is your burden to carry. Deal with it. Good bye, Lance." Nicky looked past Hunter at the slack-jawed expressions of Bobbi and Mack. "Good bye, Mack. Bye Bobbi. It was nice working with you. Don't take it personally, but I hope I'll never have to do it again."

Nicky turned to go, and then looked back at Bobbi, a weary smile gracing his face. "What did I tell you, doll? You're going to catch flies."

He didn't wait for her response, but heard a small, choked laugh come from the agent. Turning on one heel, Nicky left the room and closed the door with a soft _click_ behind him.

Nicholas Latimer had meant what he'd said.

He sincerely hoped he'd never have to work with Hunter or Morse or Mack ever again. That same day, he got called for numerous other jobs. Each time, Latimer answered the calls confused. He said the same thing each time, using an American accent, rather than his native British one, 'Who is Nicholas Latimer and what kind of job are you talking about? This sounds shifty, I'm calling the authorities."

Each time, Nicky got the phone hung up on him. The same number never called twice. Nicholas sold all of his weaponry with the exception of his tactical knife and Walther P99.

Just like that, Nicholas Latimer dropped off the grid. Ceased to exist. Nicky used favors within SHIELD to get all the existing information in SHIELD and all other international databases wiped. He changed his name, pulled some strings and got a fake ID and passport. He got a new cell phone with a different number.

Nicholas Latimer was untraceable and finally out of the mercenary business. He'd never have to deal with SHIELD or shoot another assault rifle in his life.

Or so he thought. Of course, it would never be that simple.


	2. Pilot: Part One

**Author's Note** : Ches, ches, I know some paragraphs are repeats. They didn't need fixing. The good news in, about a third into this chapter, we take a whole different turn since we're starting in season one. So enjoy!

 **Rating** : T (for language and violence)

 **Disclaimer** : All rights go to Marvel. I own nothing but my OCs. Mainly Nicky Latimer. Yeah, pretty much just him.

 **Editing** : All editing is done by me, I take responsibility for my mistakes.

 _Chapter One_

Nicholas dreamt a lot.

Most of the time they were normal dreams, about girls and cars and…well, that was about it. Other times, they were worse. A lot worse.

The dreams about Dubai started shortly after the incident. They all ended with Nicky dying. Not surviving. Shot through the throat and bleeding out as the compound exploded. He had them every night since the disaster for nearly three months.

Ever since Nicky had gone off the grid, he'd been trying to stay on the down low. But the dreams were getting worse and worse. He knew a psychologist; an excellent one, in fact. He worked at Culver University and Nicky was staying quite close to the college shortly after the incident. He also used to work for SHIELD. Nicky knew he'd be taking a chance, but he trusted Andrew Garner to not report him in.

And luckily, he didn't. Three months after Dubai, Nicky started to visit Dr. Garner. A week after their sessions, the dreams started to slow down. A month after their sessions, the dreams stopped all together. With no reason to continue seeing Andrew, Nicky paid him for the sessions, as well as compensation for his silence. And Nicky's location stayed a secret.

He did keep in periodic contact with Alphonso Mackenzie, though. He talked to him every month or so, and Mack caught Nicky up on what he was allowed to tell him, including the marriage and divorce of Hunter and Bobbi. It was almost ironic when it came to Dubai. A shame, too. They seemed to fit so well together.

In a year or so after Dubai, Nicky moved to Fairfax, Virginia. He was aware of the short distance from Fairfax to the Triskelion and Washington, DC, but Nicky convinced himself it was just bad luck. He didn't want to even think about the possibility that he was starting to miss his job. Because he wasn't.

He wasn't missing Lance Hunter. He didn't miss covert missions or the feel of his M4A1. He didn't miss the thrill of an undercover operation. He didn't miss the jabs he shared with the various teams he worked with over the years.

He didn't. That's what Nicky kept telling himself.

It became a bigger and bigger lie every day.

On the other hand, Nicky was leading a good life. He had gone from Nicholas Latimer, former MI6 agent turned mercenary from London to Noah Logan, Penn State business major graduate from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He moved to Fairfax and got a job in construction. For a while, Nicky even dated a girl for a solid four months before the two agreed to break up mutually, because of work and the fact that both were too busy for a relationship. The two had stayed friends, though, and got in touch every once in a while.

All in all, Nicky couldn't complain. He was far from his former life as a mercenary and he hadn't heard from Hunter or SHIELD in a year or so. Things were starting to look up. That was only temporary, of course.

* * *

 **September 24, 2013 – Fairfax, Virginia**

The dreams came back that night.

Nicky dreamt he was back in the compound. It was the same dream it had been fifteen months ago. Hunter walked away from him. He killed the guards. He unlocked the cell. He got a bullet to the neck. Dr. Killian fled the scene. The compound exploded moments later, killing him and the children inside.

He woke up a cold sweat, sitting up in his bed. Nicky's chest heaved as he took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. His hand flew to the scar on the right side of his neck, right where his collarbone was. It was still there. It wasn't in the back of his throat.

Nicky sighed, leaning back against his headboard. The fan rattled above him, just like it had over a year ago when he'd gotten the call from Fury in Malibu. The only difference was there was no Stacy – Samantha – whatever her name was under his arm. There was no beach view from his expensive mansion. No sixty-two inch flat screen TV, no Jacuzzi tub, no water jet shower. Just a regular thirty-two inch, regular tub, regular shower. And no girl.

The sweat on Nicky slowly dried as he took his time on his breathing. It was in and out, slowly, steadily, thinking anywhere except on Dubai. Except on Hunter and Morse and Mack. Except on the children who died that day.

His little house in the country was quiet that day. Normally, he'd hear the Amish neighbors cows mooing or the chickens squawking. It was nice for a change, albeit a bit strange. Nicky chanced a glance at the clock. It was nearly 5AM. Definitely strange. It was soothing though, so Nicky didn't question it.

Until his phone rang.

Seriously? Now? At 4:49 in the morning? The calls reminded him of his time as a mercenary, and Nicky pushed the thoughts aside before they got too painful. He reached over and grabbed his phone, glancing at the screen. There was no caller ID on the number. That was never good.

Nicky thumbed it open. "Noah Logan speaking, how may I help you?" His voice was thick and hoarse as he spoke. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed to get a glass of water.

However, when Nicky heard the voice on the other end, his blood turned to ice.

"Nicholas Latimer? My name is Phillip Coulson and I believe we've worked together a few times within SHIELD. I don't have the wrong number, do I, because this would be terribly awkward."

Nicky dropped the American accent and his tone became cold and distant as he made his way to his small kitchen. It was déjà vu, and Nicky felt like he was back in Malibu. "Nicholas Latimer speaking. I remember you, Agent Coulson, but I'm sure you're aware that my days as a mercenary are through. You could ask Lance Hunter all about it."

There was a pause on the line. "Mr. Latimer, SHIELD hasn't collaborated with the likes of Lance Hunter for a good fourteen months. We're not calling on behalf of Hunter or Agents Morse and Mackenzie. We're calling in because we need your skill set."

Nicky laughed harshly into the phone. "I told you, I'm done with SHEILD, Phil. I like you, I really do, but –"

"Mr. Latimer, please, hear me out. A new threat has arisen and SHIELD takes threats like these _very_ seriously. Your abilities would be an amazing asset to the team I'm forming to help neutralize this threat. We're need you to come in, Nicholas."

Nicky's answer was short and simple. "No." And he hung up the phone. Nicky slipped it in his pajama pants pocket and made his way to the kitchen. After he got a drink, his phone rang again, the same number popping up on screen.

Nicky wanted to ignore it. He really did. But who was he kidding? He'd been trying to convince himself for months that he didn't miss his job and the excitement that had come with it, but he did. With a defeated sigh, he slid the bar and answered. "Coulson, I don't think –"

"Nicholas, I'd highly suggest considering my offer. Just listen to me, okay? Let me finish."

Nicky groaned and filled a glass with a couple ice cubes and some tap water. After taking a long drink, he bit out, "Make it quick."

"We'd be bringing you on board as a consultant. I'm forming a strike team, a small one. It consists of me, two highly dangerous agents and two Einstein level geniuses if they agree to my proposition, which is very likely. I'd like to add you into the mix. And one more, if we can."

"And who's this other person?"

"That's the catch. Los Angeles, California. There's a girl there who've we taken a recent interest in. She's a hacker, or so we assume. She's brilliant with technology and she could be a possible threat. She's young though, and impressionable. We want you to bring her in."

"LA? Really? You act like I can just hop on a plane and get outta here."

"There's a quinjet waiting for you in your front yard. I think we scared away the chickens." The line was quiet for a moment. "I know you've built up a good life for yourself, Nicholas. Agent Mackenzie has told me bits and pieces under an agreement of silence. But we do need you, Nicholas."

Nicky ground his teeth together and slammed his glass of water on the counter, hurrying to his bedroom, throwing a suitcase together.

"You got a name, Coulson?"

"No name. She's young, early twenties at the oldest. Dark, long, curly hair. Asian, Chinese at our most accurate guess. About 5'6". Slim figure. Is that sufficient, Mr. Latimer?"

"Yeah," Nicky grunted into the phone as he pulled on a pair of jeans and black Henley. He was throwing clothes into his suitcase, along with toiletries and a few other miscellaneous objects that he would need.

"I take it you'll be joining us then, Nicholas?"

Nicky didn't respond. He stood up straight, looking around his little room, taking a moment to think before really diving in. After all, he hadn't agreed to anything yet. Hunter was right about one thing. Nicky's life was good. The construction job was keeping him in shape. He was going on five mile runs every day before and after work. He'd even go to the gym twice a week and lift weights.

He had his regular coffee shop and he'd been hitting it off with the barista, a cute little redhead from Alabama. She was a sweet girl and Nicky really felt he could settle down with her, given the chance, given that he trusted her enough. Italy was always a reminder of what happened when he let girls get too close, which was why he was a one night stand kinda guy for a long time. He'd finally given up the playboy act when he'd given up his work as a mercenary and it was truly amazing to have someone to genuinely care about, not just for the pleasure of things. He had to be careful, but some aspects were worth it.

Nicky had made a ton of friends through his co-workers. He even dared to one of them his best friend since Hunter. They went to the bar every Friday and got drunk off their asses, singing karaoke with the manager of the joint. He and his little group of friends even went bowling on weekends and he'd helped the majority of them find steady girlfriends.

It was normal. It was nice. It was honestly the American dream. Nicky didn't want to give his new life as Noah Logan, not in a million years. It was going so perfectly.

Nicky gave a little sigh before he responded as he zipped up his suitcase, knowing the answer.

"I'll be out in five."

* * *

 **September 25, 2013 – Ruthie's Skillet, 2:39PM  
Los Angeles, California**

Nicky took another drink of his beer and frowned at the flat taste. He'd been at the little bar and restaurant called Ruthie's Skillet for the past two hours and he was tired of waiting for this woman. No one that matched Coulson's description had entered the bar in the time he'd been there.

Part of Nicky was bored with waiting, but the other part of his didn't necessarily mind it. It gave him time to think and time to process. Process the fact that, yeah, he was officially back in the field. He didn't have Hunter by his side, but that was a minor difference. The fact was, Coulson had managed to wiggle his way into Nicky's conscience and convince him to join SHIELD once more. Not officially, but as a consultant, which was official enough.

Nicky had arrived in Los Angeles at around 11:30PM. He took Coulson's phone call, dropping his stuff at a cheap motel just outside of the city limits, and hailed a cab to this little diner where Coulson was tracking the girl's signature. There was the small complication that she wasn't actually _there_ , but Nicky figured Coulson knew what he was doing.

Well, he figured Coulson knew what he was doing the first hour he'd been there. Now it was just a bit ridiculous. He had resorted to watching football. Nicky _hated_ football.

Just then, his burner phone that he had picked up at the airport rang and Nicky flipped it open. "Nicholas Latimer speaking."

"She's entering…now." It was Coulson. Just as he spoke, the bell to the diner rang on the front door. Nicky turned from his seat at the bar to look at her. Sure enough, she was just as Coulson described. Long, curly dark hair. Asian. Gorgeous. What Coulson hadn't mentioned was that she looked to be about nineteen. Yes, he said young, but not _this_ young. She slid into a booth with an African American man and Nicky returned his gaze to the TV screen, but he wasn't really paying attention.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Do your best to listen to their conversation. After she's alone, stall her. Ward and I are going to look through her van. Be as long as you can. Strike up a conversation, hit on her, I don't care. Just distract her for as long as humanly possible, I'll text you when we're out. Got it?"

Nicky glanced over his shoulder at the woman and the man. The woman was talking animatedly with her hands the man was looking at her like she was insane. Nicky didn't exactly blame the guy. He was pretty sure, judging the man's reaction, that he had no idea who she was.

Their conversation was quiet, which wasn't necessarily the issue. Nicky had good hearing. But the problem was that the bar was particularly crowded for a Wednesday afternoon. He picked up pieces of their conversation, mainly about the man being a 'hero' and that he should flaunt it. Whatever that meant. Among that, Nicky picked up conversations about the football game, an argument about whiskey brands, and something about a 'side-hoe'. Classy, right?

Nicky looked back over his shoulder, but the pair was gone. He frowned and nearly choked when the man stood right next to him. After recovering from the initial shock of his targets dropping literally right in front of him, Nicky watched the football, listening to their talk.

"You have an office?" the man was asking skeptically. His eyebrows were knitted together judgmentally.

The woman scoffed. "Yes, I have an office." She began trailing off, "It's a mobile…office…" The girl re-shouldered her backpack and Nicky snorted into his beer glass, despite the terrible taste, to cover up the laugh. "It's a…van. I live in a van – by choice. But it's always in the alley around the corner, free Wi-Fi, and you can come by anytime," she finished with a hopeful smile.

The man looked a bit overwhelmed, but he still offered a timid, yet polite smile. "Thank you." Without another look or word, he turned around and made his way out of the diner.

The woman waved to his turned back, "They're coming for you."

The man looked back at her weirdly before disappearing out of the door.

Nicky glanced over as the girl studied something in her hand. A small, plastic rectangle. The man's driver's license.

"…Mike," she finished, but of course, he was gone.

Nicky set down his glass and smirked at her. Time to stall, he supposed. "That was a cool party trick."

The girl jumped a bit, clearly not realizing that Nicky was so close to her. "What are you talking about?" she stammered, shoving the license in her pocket, "I don't know what you're talking about." She closed her eyes in frustration. "And that was redundant."

Nicky lowered his voice a fraction. "You may be good when it comes to pick-pocketing, but I'd work on the whole 'subtle' thing afterwards," he advised.

"Thanks, but I have to go –" she turned to leave, but Nicky caught her arm with a small, disarming grin. It was his 'hey, you can trust me' grin and it rarely failed.

This time wasn't an exception.

"It's alright, I'm not going to turn you in. In fact, I think you have a noble cause in all the government junk that's going on."

The woman looked conflicted for a moment, but she settled on the stool next to Nicky. "Fine. But only because your accent is cute."

Nicky waved the bartender over with a grin, "Jack and Coke and whatever she wants," he says, jerking a thumb to the woman. He then eyed her. "You are old enough to drink, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm old enough to drink! I'm twenty-five. I'll have what he's having."

"I'll still need ID," said the bartender as she returned with a polite smile.

The girl huffed and pulled out her wallet, showing the waitress her license. After satisfactory sweep over the card, the waitress nodded and set the two drinks down.

"So, are you gonna give me a name?" asked Nicky innocently, before taking a swig. "You know, I usually wait for a name before buying a girl a drink. You're a lucky one."

She raised one eyebrow over the rim of her glass, when she set it down, she held out a hand. "Skye."

Nicky grasped her hand and he didn't notice that it was soft and warm under his calloused fingertips. Nope, not at all. "Just Skye?"

"I'm a foster kid. Somehow, I didn't think the name 'Mary Sue Poots' did me justice."

"I dunno," mused Nicky. "I could see it."

Skye rolled her eyes and slapped Nicky lightly on the arm. "Aren't you going to return the gesture? Or are you one of those guys who pretends to have an interest in me, gets me drunk, we have a one night stand and you're gone in the morning?"

Nicky laughed a bit and shook his head. "Nicholas Latimer. You can call me Nicky. And no, I'm not trying to sleep with you, no matter how much my inner teenage boy says otherwise."

Skye laughed and took another sip of her beverage. "Sounds like a girl's name to me."

Nicky scowled and waved his hand aside. "Too many 'Nick's in the world. It's overrated. I put up with the quips in exchange to be different," he said with a mockingly reverent look on his face.

"Well, I think your name is cute," Skye said with a playful grin.

"D'aww, thanks!"

A silence ensued as each of them took a drink, staring at each other over the edges of their glasses. Finally, Skye broke it. "Wow, your eyes are _really_ green."

Nicky laughed and rolled said green eyes. "And yours are like vats of melted chocolate. I could lose myself in them for hours."

"Something tells me you're a washed-up, hopeless romantic."

"I'm trying the routine out," said Nicky with a shrug.

"So. You said you like what I'm doing…and how much do you know about me exactly?"

Nicky set his glass down and sighed. To business, then. "I know you don't like SHIELD. I can definitely side with you on that one. Annoying pieces of work, they are."

Skye looked surprised. "How much do you know about them?"

"Enough. I have friends who are in the line of work. Shady buggers, the lot of them. We had a falling out a while back and I guess I blame SHIELD for taking away my friends. I know what they're about. Containment for the 'greater good'," said Nicky, using air quotes. "It's not that. It's all secrets and lies. Hell, their secrets have secrets. They've gone far enough, took too much from me, broken me down. I want to see them broken in return."

Skye's finger traced the rim of her glass while she watched Nicky intently. She hadn't taken her eyes off of him the entire time he had been speaking and he felt a moment of triumph. He hadn't lied to Skye, not really. Quite the opposite, actually. Everything he'd said was true. They took Hunter and…and a few other close friends.

Despite Nicky's best interests, his mind wandering to the incident in Italy that seemed to long ago. Just envisioning it made Nicky's jaw set and fists clench involuntarily. He hated SHIELD for turning Hunter to the point where he'd leave Nicky in the stairwell. He hated SHIELD for the accident in Italy that left him a broken man. He hated them for that, it was true. The only thing that wasn't was what he said about SHIELD being broken. He didn't want the organization broken; they were paying him good money. But the tiny lie was a small price to pay for Skye's cooperation and rapt attention.

"I work for an organization called the Rising Tide. We're calling ourselves a hacktivist group, meaning most of our messages are sent out virally. I'm good with computers – like, freaky good. We've made it our mission to expose SHIELD for what they really are. Lots of people want to know and we deliver. As much as SHIELD wants it to, something like the Battle of Manhattan doesn't just disappear, and folks ask questions. We just want to answer them."

"So what was that about…Mike, you said?"

Skye grinned. "He's the Hooded Hero."

Nicky raised an eyebrow at that. He'd watched the news waiting for Skye, and there was something about this 'Hooded Hero'. Wearing nothing but a hoodie, the man had saved a woman from a burning building and jumped out the topmost window, cracking the pavement, landing on his feet. The man wasn't even fazed. He put the woman down and ran off without a word.

"The guy in the fire?"

"That's the one. I took that video," she said proudly.

Nicky grinned. "Top quality stuff, then."

"Awh, you're going to make me blush." Then Skye's face lit up. "You want to come check out my office?"

Nicky's gut screamed red alert, but he kept his façade going. He chuckled nervously, but if it sounded tentative, Skye didn't seem to notice. "Are you sure? I mean, I just met you."

Skye tilted her head slightly and smiled. "Yeah, but you seem trustworthy. Maybe it's your accent, but hey. An enemy of SHIELD is a friend of mine. C'mon!" She took Nicky's hand, dragging him off the stool and towards the door. Nicky couldn't do much to protest. He threw a twenty dollar bill on the bar and let Skye pull him away.

Trying to be as unobvious as humanly possible, Nicky pulled out his flip phone and typed out a quick message to Coulson. **On our way to the van. Get out.**

He didn't wait for a response before shutting it and slipping the device back into his pocket, hoping to god that Coulson and the agent he'd mentioned that would be tagging along were gone.

Skye still hadn't let go of his hand, but when they rounded the street corner, she finally did. She looked at Nicky a bit nervously and rubber her hands together as she spoke. "I know it's a bit rustic and not in the best shape, but it's perfect! I mean, I don't need much, so I figure it's enough, ya know?"

Nicky had lived in his fair share of trailers for a while, even tents, and he understood perfectly. He smiled at her. "I know all too well. I'm sure it's wonderful."

Skye beamed at him and unlocked the door, sliding it open. "It's a bit cramped for both of us, but we can make it work."

Once he was inside, he slid the door shut and sat in the back, cross-legged, while Skye sat on a little chair-type thing. The van was flooded with wires and screens and she sat in front of what Nicky assumed was the main monitor. Scraps of newspapers and maps littered the walls. She gestured to the screen proudly, "This is where I broadcast. In fact, I'm about to record a segment now! So, uh, just stay quiet for a moment, and we can talk after, yeah?"

Nicky nodded with a grin, "Sure. Take all the time you need."

Skye smiled, a true, genuine smile that warmed Nicky to the core. He felt bad that he was betraying this girl. She was nice and definitely tolerable with a sense of humor and a rebellious streak that Nicky could relate to. Dare he say he even _liked_ the girl. There was something about Skye that was just so charismatic and when Nicky read his newest text message, his breathing constricted and guilt consumed him.

 **We're clear. Engaging target.**

Then Skye began to speak and Nicky shut his phone, his eyes trained on the girl. "How will you come at us? From the air? From the ground? How will you silence us this time? How _can_ you? The truth is in the wind. It's everywhere. You cannot stop the Rising Tide. You will not find us. You will never see our faces. But rest assured, we will rise against those who shield us from the truth. And nothing – _nothing_ – can stop us in the –"

On Skye's second 'nothing' the van door slid open. There stood Phil Coulson in a black suit, a little, amused smile on is features. Beside him was another agent. Nicky figured he was the one Coulson had told him about. He had carefully styled black hair, a pair of aviator sunglasses, and suit matching Coulson's. His expression wasn't amused.

Skye cut off midsentence and looked at Nicky, the two men, then back at Nicky. "You work for them, don't you?" Her tone was harsh and free of the joyful tone that Nicky had become accustomed to.

Nicky shook his head quickly. "I work myself. Mercenary, actually. Everything I told you was true. They are annoying prats." He tried for a smile, but it was weak beneath Skye's condescending glare.

Skye looked back at the two men and gave them a fake grin. "Hey. What up?"

Before she got another word out, the special agent covered her head with a black bag and wrestled her out of the van. Nicky followed her out, watching Skye kick and scream against the tall man in protest, but it wasn't going to make a difference.

"So?" asked Coulson.

"So what?"

"What did you think of her?"

"I like her," Nicky admitted after a few moments of silence. "She's got spirit, wit, and a sense of humor. SHIELD seems to be lacking all three these days."

"So you're accepting our consulting job, then?"

Nicky kicked a pebble, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. "Yeah. I suppose I am."

"Then I hope you like heights, Mr. Latimer. I'll have your quarters' arrangements made. I'll send someone to pick you up from your hotel room in an hour?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

"Fantastic. Welcome aboard, Mr. Latimer." Coulson held out his hand.

After Nicky's eyes flicked to Coulson's hand, then back to Coulson's face, he shook the man's hand firmly. "It's nice to be back, sir."

And despite the fact that he didn't want it to be true, Nicky wasn't lying.


	3. Pilot: Part Two

**Author's Note:** I'M BAAAAAACCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK. GOD, I LOVE THIS SHOW. AND SKYE (DAISY, WHATEVER). Butttt you all can thank _Captain America: Civil War_ for returning the Marvel Muse to me. I, for one, am absolutely _thrilled_ that it's back and hope you guys are excited as I am. Hells yeah! So, without further ado, chapter two! AHA! That rhymed. It's nearly 1AM where I am and I'm sleep deprived, as you can all probably tell.

So please, as usual, review for me, because I haven't written in a loooong time, so hopefully this is up to you guys' standards. Let me know how I did pretty please! Best reviewer gets to know what happened to Nicky in Italy!

 **Rating:** T (for language and violence).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Marvel or any characters seen here except for Nicholas Latimer and any OC you may recognize.

 **Editing:** All editing is done by me, all mistakes are my own.

* * *

 _Chapter Two_

 **September 25, 2013 – Nicholas Latimer's Hotel Room, 4:01PM**

Once back at his hotel room, Nicky packed his bag relatively quickly and grabbed a quick shower, wiping off the smell of stale beer and desperation from his skin after being at Ruthie's Skillet for so long.

By the time he'd gotten out and changed into dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and thrown on his black leather jacket, there were three sharp knocks at the door. Nicky shouldered his duffel bag and opened the door to reveal an older Asian woman. Chinese-American, by the looks of it.

She glared at him for around ten long, torturous seconds, and then said, "I thought you'd be taller."

It took Nicky a moment to process what she had said before he indignantly responded, "I'm six-one!"

The woman rolled her eyes and jerked her head at the stairs. "Let's go." She'd turned around and walked away, heading down the stairs before Nicky could respond.

Nicky made one last sweep of the room before shutting it and following the woman, who was out of sight by now. He jogged quickly behind, heading down the stairs by twos and hitting the lobby, where the woman was already half way out the door.

Nicky ran to catch up, getting into the passenger's side and throwing his duffel at his feet as the woman climbed into the driver's seat. The woman didn't say anything, but she started the car and pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

"You know, I hadn't checked out yet," said Nicky as she pulled onto the highway.

"I took care of it," was her short answer.

"And _who_ took care of it, exactly?"

"Not a cab driver and this isn't Twenty Questions. Now sit there and shut up."

Nicky's mouth snapped shut and looked forward. "Okay…" he blew out a breath. _This is going to be a long car ride_ , he thought to himself.

* * *

 **Private Airfield: The Bus, 4:17PM**

Nicholas had been wrong. It hadn't been a long car ride. It had been an _incredibly_ long car ride. All in all, the ride had only been around fifteen minutes when the GPS said in a very monotone voice, "Arriving. Destination is on your right," though Nicky didn't see how. They were in the middle of a desert and nothing seemed to be around for miles.

Okay, so that was an exaggeration. There were…mountains, but that was about it. Nevertheless, the woman pulled onto a dusty road and thus began the next part of the journey.

Nicky wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Coulson had said something about heights so maybe they were staying in a skyscraper. Then again, Nicky highly doubted SHIELD would put a skyscraper in the middle of a desert. SHIELD was weird but it wasn't _that_ weird.

Whatever it was, Nicky certainly hadn't been expecting to pull into a private airfield up to a giant, black jet plane. His jaw dropped when he saw the aircraft. He whistled appreciatively. "I want to fly it," he whispered, more to himself than to the woman beside him.

"No," was the only response she gave, indicating she'd heard him.

Nicky huffed and shouldered his duffel as the woman put the dark SUV into park right beside an old van. _Skye's_ old van, Nicky realized. He'd been dreading being reunited with the girl. He figured it'd either result in a slap to the face or a kick to the nards. Of course, it wasn't like it would be a new thing. When Nicky was ever reunited with women he'd previously played, it usually ended in physical pain. ( _But I didn't play her_ , Nicky thought to himself, _I just…stretched the truth a tad._ )

The two got out of the van and began to approached the massive plane.

Ahead of him, Coulson and the other agent who had helped apprehend Skye were on the boarding deck to the large jet. The other agent was holding who Nicky assumed was the young hacker, complete with a dark bag over her head and her hands tied behind her back. Classic SHIELD.

Coulson turned and said something to the other agent, who nodded gruffly and led Skye away, back towards a set of stairs. Then Coulson leaned on his car, Lola, a red 1962 Chevrolet Corvette that Nicky had learned to appreciate. He had always preferred bikes, but a hover-car? Nicky was all for that.

Coulson smiled his normally reserved smile at Nicky and the woman as they approached. Before Coulson even spoke, the woman said, "Next time, hire an Uber. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a Bus to prep." The woman started to take the spiral staircase two at a time.

"Actually…" called Coulson, looking after the woman.

Nicky was pretty sure the expression on her face would give him nightmares for years to come.

"FitzSimmons is in the other van. Think you can hitch them a ride to the site of the fire?"

The woman didn't respond.

"It's only five minutes away and you'll never have to be a taxi service again," Coulson promised.

The woman's response was low and muttered and Nicky couldn't quite make it out, but she didn't sound thrilled. She exhaled angrily and stormed off, back the way her and Nicky had come.

"Well she was…charming," Nicky said with a slight smirk.

Coulson's smile never left his face. "You'll get used to May. She's an acquired taste."

"I feel like if I even _think_ too loud, she'll kick my ass."

"She usually has that effect on people."

"Reminds me of the Black Widow, almost," said Nicky, staring down the flight deck where the woman—May, he corrected himself—had gotten into a gray van.

"Natasha's nicer," said Coulson easily, his gaze following Nicky's.

Nicky looked at Coulson sharply. "You're on a first name basis with the Black Widow?" His expression was something akin to awe and terror at the same time.

Coulson scoffed. "Please. I'm on a first name basis with the _Avengers_."

"Think you could introduce me?"

"Considering they think I'm six feet under, I feel like some complications could arise," said Coulson easily, not missing a beat, his light tone never changing.

Nicky just shook his head, a small smile gracing his features. Yeah, he had missed this. "Right, well." He looked around the flight deck, relaxing at the sight of all the familiar equipment. Familiar equipment primarily being assault rifles and rocket launchers. Yeah. It was good to be back. "What are my orders, Cap'n?" Nicky asked, executing a mock salute.

Coulson pushed off of Lola and signaled Nicky to follow him up the stairs. "I had Ward—you know, the dark haired agent with me at Skye's van?—put Skye in the interrogation chamber. We're going to loosen her up. You're going to be outside waiting. I'll bring you in provided I need to."

Nicky shifted his duffel bag nervously on his shoulder. Coulson's words made him uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, that he didn't even have time to appreciate the giant jet plane that he was on. And Nicky loved planes. "What do you mean, 'provided you need to'?" Nicky echoed.

A slight smile, the mischievous one that Nicky had learned to fear back on their one operation in Rome together, played on Coulson's lips. "You'll see."

The two stopped outside of a door and Coulson faced him. "Stay here. Be ready to come in just in case." Coulson went to enter, but stopped his hand on the door handle. He turned, his neck craning over his shoulder. "Leave the duffel bag. You need to look somewhat important." Before Nicky could ask what that meant, Coulson opened the door and disappeared inside.

Nicky meandered a little ways down the hall into a comfortable living area. He'd somehow missed this room when he had been too busy worrying about Coulson's cryptic message. Tossing his duffel bag on the ground, Nicky allowed himself to sink into the couch, propping his chin on his fist as he sat.

It was about ten or so minutes later when he heard the door open followed by Coulson's voice, though his usual light tone was gone, replaced with a hard indifference. "Is it the girl? She getting under your skin?"

"Sir?" This voice Nicky didn't recognize. The two passed him by on the couch a moment later and Nicky matched the unrecognizable voice to the dark haired agent who had been escorting Skye earlier.

"Or is it the assignment?" Coulson turned slightly, his eye briefly catching Nicky's and giving him a slight nod before going back to the other agent. "Are you so anxious to get out of this that you'd deliberately blow an interrogation?"

Nicky slid off the couch quietly, following the two men, not wanting to interrupt.

The two stopped and Coulson began to input a passcode into a keypad and the other agents spoke up, frustration leaking into his tone. He still hadn't noticed Nicky. "Give me a minute alone with her, you'll have your answers."

"She's an asset," said Coulson simply.

Relief seeped into the agent's tone. "She is _such_ an a—" He paused. "Wait, 'asset'?"

"We don't know anything about her," said Coulson, pulling out a briefcase and setting it on the table. "Do you appreciate how often that happens? That _never_ happens. We need…" Coulson opened the briefcase, revealing a gun-looking contraption, "what she knows."

It clicked to Nicky a moment after he looked at it too long. It wasn't a gun. It was a syringe for some type of serum, by the looks of it.

"What she _knows_? All due respect, sir—" Then, for the first time, the other agent noticed Nicky standing there, arms crossed, leaning against the divider. "Who the hell is this?"

"Ward, this is Nicholas Latimer, former MI6 and British Intelligence. Latimer, this is Agent Grant Ward. He's one of the best. Nicholas will be joining us for our mission," supplied Coulson as he pulled out the administrator.

"Wait, Coulson, you hired _mercenaries_?!" Ward's voice sounded incredulous.

"I'm right here, you know," sniffed Nicky, raising an eyebrow at the agent.

Coulson scoffed. "I'd never hire mercenaries, Ward. I hired a _mercenary_. Singular. One. He's worked with SHIELD before and I've worked with him personally in Rome. I trust Nicholas and I expect you to do the same."

"You heard the boss," said Nicky, wriggling his eyebrows and holding out a hand. "It's a pleasure, Ward."

Ward's mouth pressed into a thin line and his expression hardened into a scowl. His Adam's apple shifted as he swallowed roughly before grasping Nicky's hand and giving it a firm shake. "It's nice to meet you too, Latimer," he ground out.

Nicky's smile never wavered. There was nothing he enjoyed more than messing with uptight SHIELD agents. It had been a while since he had.

The two men released and turned to Coulson, whose mischievous half smile had returned. "Shall we go talk to our guest?"

Nicky and Ward exchanged a look, one that expressed how wary each of them were when Coulson smiled that way. It wouldn't bode well for either of them, Nicky was sure of it.

Coulson didn't wait for a response from either man. Rather he removed the contents of the briefcase and began back the way they'd came, through the living arrangement, into the light gray hallway. Ward opened the door and Skye jumped up as Coulson entered, Nicky behind him, Ward closing the door.

As soon as Skye's eyes landed on Nicky, they narrowed dangerously. She didn't say a word, but only chose to glare at him. Nicky tried for a smile. "Nice to see you again, love."

"I wish I could say the same to you, _liar_. Is your real name even Nicky?"

Grant Ward snorted off to the side, and failed miserably at covering it up with a cough. Nicky glared daggers at him before looking back at Skye. "I didn't lie to you, Skye. They are annoying prats and I don't work for them. I'm a mercenary, swear on it." He paused. "I'm sorry, Skye. I wish I could have met you under different circumstances."

"Yeah," said Skye shortly. "I'm sorry, too."

Nicky sighed, blowing out a breath and crossing his arms over his chest and going to stand next to Coulson. Coulson chose that moment to intervene. "Have a seat, Skye."

Skye's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching slightly at the side, before she slid down into the chair opposite of Coulson. Coulson held up a small vial of the greenish tinted liquid from the briefcase. "This is QNB-T16. It's the top-shelf martini of sodium pentothal derivatives." On 'sodium', Skye tried to get out of her seat, her expression going sour. Ward's hands landed on her shoulders, forcing her back down.

Coulson just continued, not even stopping his monologue. "It's a brand new and extremely potent truth drug. Don't worry—the effects only last about an hour."

Ward's hands released Skye and he began moving to the other side of Coulson. "And you'll have a nice little nap." Ward's voice was laced with what only could be interpreted as…excitement? Like a little kid getting ice cream. "And we'll have all the answers to our—Hey!" Ward broke off and grabbed his arm as Coulson jabbed the needle through the fabric of his suit into his bicep. "What the hell?!"

Nicky snorted lowly as Ward rubbed his arm and glared at Coulson. Ward's glare was soon turned on Nicky, though, who just grinned in response.

Coulson merely looked down at the administrator as he reloaded it with another vial. _Wait_ , Nicky thought. _Reloaded it with another vial?_

"I'm sorry," said Coulson, not sounding sorry at all and not looking up from the truth serum applicator. "Did that hurt?"

"No," said Ward adamantly, releasing his arm. "But you've lost your mind. You should never do that to a member of your team."

"What, like this?" Coulson asked innocently before jabbing Nicky with the administrator a moment later.

Nicky yelped and rubbed his arm where the serum had been injected. "What the hell, Coulson?!"

"Yes, exactly like that!" said Ward. "And yes, it did hurt a little bit. But I always try and mask my pain in front of beautiful women cause I think it makes me seem more masculine, and my _god_ , this stuff works fast." Ward rubbed his arm and sank down into one of the chairs.

Skye's expression turned from shock to pure amusement in a second flat. She looked at Nicky. "Any confessions you'd like to make while we're at it?"

"No," Nicky grumbled, rubbing his arm, and before he could stop himself, the torrent of words came flowing out. "But I think Ward is a giant hardass even though I just met him five minutes ago, and even though he's an ass-kicking agent, a rebellious and gorgeous woman such as yourself would be better off with me." Nicky's felt his face heat up and plopped himself down in the chair next to Ward. "Bloody hell, that stuff _does_ work fast," he grumbled.

"Don't trust us?" asked Coulson, his hands folded in front of him, his face trying to mask the amusement threatening to break out on his features. "Ask them anything you'd like."

"Wait a minute," said Ward.

"Coulson, come on," said Nicky.

"Wait, you can't just—" Coulson opened the door. Nicky sank back into his chair as Ward tried to stop Coulson, but at this point, Nicky knew there was no stopping him. He knew that he and Ward were at the complete mercy of Skye.

"This is definitely not protocol—" The door shut, Coulson disappearing behind it.

Ward's jaw tightened and he stared at the table. Nicky's eyes briefly met Skye's as her chocolate brown orbs flickered between both men. One of her eyebrows quirked upwards as she began to take off her jacket, a mischievous expression playing across her face.

"You two seem a tad nervous," she said, leaning on the table, giving Nicky a perfect view of her— _Stop it, Latimer, she's messing with your mind_. Nicky closed his eyes briefly, trusting the back of his eyelids more than he trusted Skye in that moment.

He didn't look at Ward, but Nicky knew he was looking right where Skye wanted him to, based on the bouncing of his left knee right beside his own and fake tone of assurance in his voice as he said, "I'm calling to mind my training."

Nicky opened his eyes again as Skye stood and Ward shook his head. "There's no way I'm going to reveal classified secrets to a girl who's hell-bent on taking us down."

Skye braced her arms on the desk right beside Ward's head, who was looking forward instead of just to his right determinedly. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

Ward simply nodded, "Yes, a few." A smirk played on Nicky's lips as Ward closed his eyes and exhaled. "…High risk targets," he finished slowly. "But they were terrible people…who were trying to murder… _nice_ people. And I didn't feel good afterwards."

All the while, Skye had moved to the other side of Ward, and perched herself right between the two men, her gaze still fixed on Ward. "And does your grandmother know about these things?"

Ward's hard expression broke. He looked at Skye helplessly. "Gramsie?"

Nicky snorted, but quickly turned it into a cough when Skye rounded on him. Her eyebrow remained quirked upwards, a dangerous grin tugging at her lips. Nicky squeezed his hands tightly together and tore his gaze away from Skye, who seemed to be having _entirely_ too much fun.

When Nicky looked back at her, her gaze was still locked on his as she called out, "Coulson? Or whatever your name is? Are there cameras in here? Audio? Can I have Mr. Latimer…alone for a few questions?"

Nicky's expression could only be compared to a deer in the headlights. The door opened a moment later.

"Oh thank god," came Ward's relieved sigh as he rushed towards the senior agent. "I don't know how much more of that I could take—"

"I'm not done with him," called Skye easily, refusing to break eye contact with the mercenary. "Keep him on stand-by, will you?"

"Of course." The next sound Nicky heard was of handcuffs snapping in place and an indignant cry come from Ward. The door shut a moment later.

Skye easily slid into the seat where Ward had previously been seated, batting her eyelashes. Nicky swallowed roughly. "Are you sure you don't want to keep going with Ward? I think he'd be a lot more fun than me. I'm an open book, love," Nicky said weakly.

"Oh, no," purred Skye, her voice coming out low and sultry. "I'm right where I want to be."

Nicky closed his eyes, cursing his weakness towards beautiful women, _especially_ ones he couldn't have one night stands with. He hadn't been in a relationship since Italy and there was no way he wanted to go back to that. Never again, Nicky had sworn. Strictly one night stands. And Skye didn't seem like the type for one night stands, and Nicky didn't want to, if he was being honest. He liked the girl too much. He'd gotten a taste of her wit and humor at the bar and she reminded him of Hunter, almost. He could have seen himself being good friends with Skye.

Then Coulson had to go and throw a wrench in his plan of trying to befriend her. Of course.

When Nicholas opened his eyes again, he faced forward, not trusting himself to look at Skye. "When we get out of this, remind me to murder Coulson," he said.

"Don't worry, _love_ ," said Skye, a trace of amusement in her tone, "it'd be my genuine pleasure."

Nicky groaned. This was going to be a long hour.

* * *

 **Author's Note. Again:** Remember what I said about best reviewer gets to know about Italy? JUST KIDDING. Hell no, that would take away all the suspense. But I hope you will all still review whatever you were going to with the Italy Reveal on the line, because I'd reeaaaaallly appreciate it. And besides, more reviews means we get a bit of Skye's interrogation of Nicky sooner, which hints at Italy. SO REVIEW, K THX BAI.


	4. Pilot: Part Three

**Author's Note:** Eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, here's chappie numero three, sorry for the wait, even though it was hella short compared to the last one. As usual, please favorite, follow, and even drop a review if you feel so inclined. Thank you all so much for your support thus far and I hope I'm doing a good job!

 **Rating:** T (for language and violence).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Marvel or any characters seen here except for Nicholas Latimer and any OC you may recognize.

 **Editing:** All editing is done by me, all mistakes are my own.

* * *

 _Chapter Three_

 **September 25, 2013 – The Bus, 4:59**

It hadn't been an hour. Not an entire one. But it had been around forty-five minutes before Skye decided she wanted Agent Ward back.

Nicholas left the interrogation room, Ward in his place. Nicky's jaw was clenched, fists shaking. It had been going well. Skye had been toying with him, at most. Nicky didn't think it could get worse. Then Italy came up. And Nicky had spilled _everything_.

 _The two had just finished laughing. Well, Skye had been. Nicky was grumbling, but smiling as he snickered a bit at Skye's last jab. The two settled into silence for a moment before Skye leaned forward a bit. "So, Nicholas…"_

 _"Oh boy," Nicky groaned, upon hearing his full name._

 _Skye merely grinned. "You met me in a bar and played me right into your hand. Bought me a drink, used your cute accent and everything. So are you_ really _a washed up romantic? Or were you screwing with me?"_

 _The words tumbled out of Nicky like a waterfall, without his consent. It was a feeling he'd never get used to. "I'm a one night stand kinda guy. Saves the heartache for everyone. Not just the girl, but me too. I can be kinda a sensitive. I'm a mercenary. I'm on the move a lot, it comes with the job. It saves me the trouble. I never want to go through that trouble again."Nicky hadn't been worried in the slightest until he realized what he said and he thought about Italy. He instantly knew what Skye's next question would be. His eyes widened. "Skye, don't—"_

 _"What do you mean 'again'?" she asked._

 _And it was like a dam had broken._

The question had been innocent enough. Anyone could have asked it. But with the truth serum in him, Nicky's past came to the light to some girl he barely knew. He hadn't even told _Hunter_ about Italy.

For years, Nicky had kept it pent up. He had seen Andrew Garner about the nightmares after both incidents—Italy and Dubai. He hadn't spoken to anyone about what had happened in Venice since the doctor. He had vowed that he never would. It was too painful.

Skye had made him break his own promise as easily as one would break a toothpick.

To an extent, Nicky didn't blame Skye. She hadn't actually known any better, nor was there any way she would have. It just happened. If anything, Nicky was angrier at himself.

As Nicky crashed on the couch, a sudden wave of tiredness washed over him. He swallowed the lump that was stuck in his throat and put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. He blinked back a few tears that had threatened to spillover and ground his teeth. He was upset, yeah, but he was also pissed. His stomach had knotted uncomfortably while he had been spilling everything that had happened in Venice to Skye. She'd become increasingly uncomfortable during the story, as if she knew it bothered Nicky, which anyone who could read people in the slightest would have known. She made no move to stop him though while he spoke. After he'd finished, the room had been silent until Skye quietly said that she wanted to speak to Ward again. Nicky had left without saying anything.

Footsteps approached the mercenary and stopped in front of him. Nicky lifted his head to see Coulson, who was watching him, his facial expression unreadable.

"Did you hear any of it?" Nicky asked lowly. As Nicky set his jaw, he felt his muscle twitching. It was one of Nicky's tells when he was angry.

"I heard enough," replied Coulson cryptically. "I turned off the audio when I realized what you were talking about. What happened in Venice was somewhat of a legend around the office for a while after you stormed out on Director Fury."

Nicky snorted derisively. "Great. I'm glad half of SHIELD knows what happened to me there."

"Every agent has a mission that makes or breaks them, Nicholas. Venice made you stronger than you think."

"I see two flaws in your reasoning, Coulson. First, I'm not an agent. And second, Venice tore me apart. It took me a _year_ to even consider going back in the field. And when I finally decided I could handle it, Dubai happened, and we all know how that ended." Nicky groaned and slumped back into the couch. "I just wish none of it ever happened."

Coulson didn't show Nicky pity, and Nicky was glad for it. Instead, he locked his hands in front of him and gave Nicky that tentative smile that was his trademark. "Nicholas, those missions made you who you are today. They made you stronger for it. Yeah, they broke you apart first, but the only thing that matters is who you are now. And from where I'm standing, you're a kickass mercenary who's going to help me bring Centipede to its knees. If you ever meet Agents Barton or Romanoff, ask them about Budapest. You aren't the only one who's had a mission go all kinds of wrong."

"I wish I could meet Agent Romanoff…" said Nicky under his breath, a small smirk gracing his features.

Coulson, who had radar ears, merely rolled his eyes. "If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, you'll have to go through Captain Rogers first."

Nicky perked up at the mention of the super soldier. "Are they together?"

"No, but they might as well be. There's a betting pool on them within the STRIKE units. Fury keeps me updated."

Nicky stared at Coulson. "Fury…Director Nicholas Fury of SHIELD…is involved in a betting pool on the love lives of the Black Widow and Captain America?"

A spark of humor glinted in Coulson's eyes and his lips curved upward in a small smile. "Don't let Fury know I told you. Barton wants to see them together like no tomorrow. He owes Rumlow over a hundred bucks."

Nicky snorted lowly. "Sometimes I forget that you guys aren't uptight all the time."

"Uptight? I have no idea what you're talking about," Coulson deadpanned.

Nicky smiled a bit at that, but he was then hit with a strong sense of exhaustion, stronger than before. Blackness swept over him like a sheet as he slumped against the side of the couch.

It didn't last. Nicky woke up a mere moment later to a sharp tapping on his cheek." 'Ey, what the hell?!" He shot up, colliding with Coulson's fist.

Above him, Coulson stood, smirking. "Side effect of the truth serum wearing off. You should be able to lie again with ease. Ward is probably knocked out in the interrogation room. Head over to the computers, I'll be back with Skye in a moment."

Nicky merely nodded, a bit uncomfortable with the fact that he'd have to face Skye again, and getting to his feet slowly. He let loose a yawn and stretched a bit before heading over to where numerous SHIELD monitors were set up. On one of the screens, it was footage of the interrogation room with Ward knocked out, fast asleep on the table. A second later, Nicky heard two pairs of footsteps approaching coupled with Coulson's voice.

"Did Agent Ward give you anything?"

Nicky leaned on the table and looked over his shoulder as the agent and the hacker came closer. He felt Skye's eyes on him, but refused to look in her direction, focusing on Coulson instead. He knew it was irrational of him to be angry at her for what had happened in the room, but he couldn't help it. It was frustrating.

There was a pause before Skye responded, rounding the table. "He told me that he's been to Paris, but he's never really seen it, and that he wishes you had stayed in Tahiti," she said, bracing her hands on the table.

"Tahiti?" Nicky asked with a mock look of offense. "Why wasn't I invited?"

Coulson smiled his half-smile at the both of them. "It's a magical place," he said, completely ignoring Nicky's question.

"Ward doesn't like your style," Skye murmured, but then she smiled at Coulson. "Kind of think I do."

"What about his?" asked Coulson, tapping at the interactive table. On one of the monitors, a newscast came up, the anchorwoman speaking.

"…remains in critical condition. Employees could not identify the attacker, but security footage confirms that this man assaulted the factory before damaging thousands of dollars' worth of company property," said the woman as the security footage played on screen. Nicky watched in awe as the man known as Mike from the bar beat the living hell out of another man on screen.

"He has one hell of a right hook," Nicky muttered more to himself than anyone.

"This is wrong," said Skye shaking her head, brows furrowed. "This is not…the guy I met. He was…He just needs a break."

"The give him one," said Coulson simply. "What have you got?"

Skye hesitated and Nicky saw her reluctance. "C'mon, Skye," he whispered softly, but grudgingly. "Help us out. Help _him_ out."

Skye met Nicky's eyes for the first time since the awkward confession in the interrogation room, and as much as Nicky wanted to back down from her curious gaze, he couldn't.

"Okay," she said finally, tearing her stare away from Nicky's and looking to Coulson. "I'll help. I have his driver's license."

Coulson smiled warmly. "I knew you would. Let me call in the rest of the team."

* * *

 **5:19PM**

A few minutes later, the briefing room was filled. May entered with two young looking scientists who had introduced themselves to Nicky as Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons, resident engineer and biochemist, respectively. Two of the best, Coulson had said. They were definitely young and Nicky was skeptical, but he trusted Coulson's judgment.

Ward was conspicuously missing, still asleep in the interrogation room, Nicky assumed. Coulson made no move to tell anyone to wake up the uptight agent either, which Nicky personally had no issue with. Their personalities had clashed from the moment they'd met; any time away from Ward was going to be time to breathe. He was too cold and hard for Nicky's liking. Like a robot. Nicky didn't like robots, particularly. Not since he watched _Terminator_.

"Factory worker, married, one kid," said Coulson, going around the table as he spoke. "Gets injured, gets laid off, wife jumps ship. Good guy, bad breaks. Best guess is somebody tells him they can make him strong again, make him super."

May had taken up where Skye had been standing, who was now beside Coulson. She looked sharply at the agent. "Who has the tech to do that? And why would they want to?"

"Fitz, what do we have from the security footage? Before the blast."

Nicky looked up as the young engineer, Fitz, began tapping away at the touch screen. The board beeped and the footage showed up on one of the monitors.

"What are we seeing?" asked May.

"Well, the man is angry at the other man," said Fitz simply.

Nicky, leaning against the glass wall in the back, snorted lowly at his bluntness. Around the table, no one made a sound, but Nicky and Skye made eye contact. Skye tried for a small smile, but Nicky looked away before he smiled back, and then regretted it. He wanted to be friends with Skye, but from where they currently stood, it was just too awkward.

"The data is very corrupt," Simmons swept in, looking at the team apologetically.

"Yeah, like Cold War Russia corrupt," said Fitz, glancing at his partner.

"Yeah," agreed Simmons.

Fitz continued, "I can't sync the timecode without—"

"What if you had the audio?"

Heads around the table swiveled to Skye, who looked a tad uncomfortable at all the attention. She kept going to her credit. "I was running surveillance on the lab. I had my shotgun mic pointed at the window before the blast. The digital file's in my van. There's too much background noise for me, but could probably—"

Before Skye could finish, Simmons began excitedly tapping Fitz on the arm, "You can clean that up, can't you? Find a sync point and use cross-field validation to find—"

"I can't scrub for express patterns when the Vit-C is all—"

"Well, is there a chrominance subcarrier?"

"Yeah, attached to the back porch, brilliant! Um that audio would be great, thank you very, very much," finished Fitz as Jemma said, "We will take that audio, please."

"Was that English?" asked Nicky. "I'm assuming that was English." He looked between the two scientists, who were positively beaming. Any doubts he had about the two were instantly erased.

"One hundred percent English," confirmed Fitz.

"Your van's here, but you were right," Coulson interrupted. "We couldn't decrypt the files."

Skye smiled proudly and smirked at the rest of the group. Confidence was coming off of her in waves. "The encryption's coupled to the GPS. Get my van back to that alley and I'm in business."

"Agent May will escort you," said Coulson. And then after a pause, "And wake up Ward on your way out."

As the two left, Coulson leaned on the interactive table once more. "FitzSimmons, let's get down to the lab." He looked at Nicky. "I want to show you what we found. Well, what Simmons found. Come on."

Nicky followed Coulson as he led them down the hallway and into the hangar area, back down the stairs. Fitz and Simmons excitedly hurried into the laboratory area. Nicky stayed by Coulson as the two rushed around, not wanting to get in the way.

"Are they always like this?" Nicky muttered.

"Yeah, they are. We're lucky to have them," replied Coulson.

Nicky watched the two are they flew around like tornados on warpaths, mildly entertained at the scene. Fitz ran by them a moment later, irritated as he tapped at the Bluetooth now residing in his ear. "Coulson, I think we need to invest in new communications devices," he said quickly, his words tumbling out of him like a waterfall.

"Fitz?"

"Yeah, Coulson?" The young engineer stopped only momentarily to look at the older agent.

"You didn't turn it _on_ ," Coulson chided lightly.

"What? What do you mean I didn't—" Fitz stopped midsentence as he pulled out the device and pressed a small button on the side. A tiny blue light lit up, indicating the Bluetooth had turned on. "I…it's been a long day," muttered Fitz.

Nicky snorted and Fitz shot him a half-hearted glare. Nicky raised his hands in surrender, saying, "I know the feeling, mate. Just nice to see someone else as stressed as me."

Fitz just shook his head and went back to scrambling before he spoke again, saying, "Skye, you're on."

A pause. "They just got there," Fitz informed them. He stretched up a bit, tinkering with a large pole, which seemed to be only just that to Nicky. A pole. "Uhhh, yeah," said Fitz a moment later. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm getting it." His fingers flew across his keyboard at one of the computers as he spoke, taking a pen out of his mouth. "So, uh, uh, when-when you get back, I'll show you my thing." Fitz paused, a look of horror slowly crossing his face. He scrambled to correct his inappropriate innuendo and Nicky only rolled his eyes, turning his attention to Coulson and Simmons.

"So the alien metal wasn't the explosive?" asked Coulson.

"Wait, back up," said Nicky before Jemma could respond. Both agents looked at him. " _Alien_ metal. Coulson, I didn't sign up for aliens."

"Relax, Latimer, there are no aliens here. Well, we hope not. After the Battle of New York…" Coulson shuddered. "Here's to hoping the Avengers did their jobs."

"Right," swallowed Nicky. "That's really encouraging."

"Anyway, Coulson, to answer your question, I assumed from the break pattern and dispersion that it was," said Simmons as she activated her drill and began to lower it upon the metal, "but it's just dripping with gamma radiation and—Oh! Now it's _actually_ dripping! Fun!" Simmons laughed excitedly.

Nicky looked at the nasty brown goo that came off of the metal and made a face. "Gross," he muttered. Simmons smiled at him without saying anything.

"So what did that get us?" came a voice.

Instantly, Nicky internally groaned. Ward was awake. As the agent entered the room, he shot a scowl in Nicky's direction, who returned it with a cheeky grin. "Nice to see you up and at 'em, mate."

Ward opened his mouth to respond, but Fitz cut him off as he ran around, grabbing some of his tools. "Skye's sending us the rest of her decrypted files on Centipede. But, we have her audio. I've loaded it up."

"Nice work," said Coulson.

Ward sighed and sent a withering glare at Coulson, which seemed to say, _So we_ are _hiring mercenaries now?_ Coulson only raised a brow in response.

Fitz was oblivious to the exchange as he clacked away at his computer. "Now, using motion estimation, Bayesian interference, a beam splitter, and a little diffraction theory…" Fitz left his computer and stood on the bottom stair of the spiral staircase just outside the lab. "Our mystery man appears," he finished, pressing a few buttons on his remote.

Instantly, on the dock, a scene appeared before them, tinged red holograms. It was a replica of the security footage in the building. Nicky stared in awe at the scene before him. It was genius. There was no other word to describe it. Fitz was an absolute genius.

"It's like magic," said Fitz with a proud smile before he backtracked, "But it's-it's science."

"Bloody hell," said Nicky crossing his arms as he stepped up to the scene, finally finding his voice to be able to comment. "This is incredible."

"Thank you, Mr. Latimer," said Fitz, giving a mock bow.

"Please, it's just Nicky."

"If you two are done flirting," snapped Ward, glaring at both Nicky and Fitz, "we need to find the cause of the explosion. So. Explosives in the case?"

In response, the scene began to unfold.

"…to please calm down. Just let me check your vitals," said the man in the lab coat.

The other man backed away a bit. "I feel fine. I want to feel more. Where's the doctor?!" he asked, getting increasingly frantic. "Where is she?!"

"If-if you don't settle down, I'll have you sedated!" threatened Lab Coat Dude.

"Where is she?!" he yelled again, picking up one of the lamps and smashing it on the ground.

"Wait, did you—did you see that on his arm?" asked Fitz. He fiddled with his remote and scene rewinded.

Ward got closer as the man's arm froze in midair, an object on his arm glowing, despite the entire thing being a hologram.

"What does that look like to you?" asked Coulson.

Nicky peered a bit closer as Ward turned back to look at both him and Coulson. "A centipede," they said in sync, and then instantly glared at each other.

"It's an intravenous filter for his blood," said Simmons, getting up from her seat and walking towards them. "This goo, sir? Very similar to the serum Doctor Erskine developed in the '40s for the—"

"Super soldiers," finished Coulson.

"Super soldiers?" demanded Nicky. "Like-like Captain America?"

Simmons looked at him. "Exactly like Captain America."

"But it's a hell of a lot more volatile," Nicky pointed out.

Simmons nodded. "Yes. I'm reading alien metal, gamma radiation, the serum…every known source of superpower thrown in a blender."

"Is it bad that I want one?" wondered Nicky aloud.

No one responded, but Ward thumped Nicky on the back of the head, resulting in an indignant, "Ouch!" from the mercenary.

"We need to see the origin of the blast," Coulson said, looking to Fitz. "Run it back from the last point recorded."

Fitz did as told and Nicky and Coulson both got closer to the hologram as he did. The explosion got smaller and smaller until the man who had caused the incident was whole again. There were glowing cracks that had spread up his face and neck and his expression was one of terror.

Coulson turned to the rest of the group grimly. "Extremis," he said. "It's new. Completely unstable."

Simmons sighed beside Nicky. "Poor man didn't _bring_ an explosive," she said.

Nicky ran a hand through his hair and crossed his arms. "He _was_ the explosive."

"And Mike has the same stuff in his system."

Ward looked back at the two of them, a grudging look of respect on his face for Nicky. He looked at Jemma then. "And judging by his strength level, a lot more."

"So any minute now, Mike is gonna—" Fitz made a little explosion motion with his hands.

"He'll take out anyone within a two-block radius," finished Simmons.

"Well," said Coulson walking back to us. He looked at Ward. "You wanted a bomb. Everyone, get ready. We're going after Peterson. Ward, I want you on snipers. FitzSimmons, find out exactly what caused that man to explode." He paused and looked at Nicky. "Latimer, with me. We're going to get you outfitted."


	5. Pilot: Part Four

**Author's Note:** I will admit, this is not one of my best chapters. I'm not sure why, it just wasn't clicking when I read it through, but I'm not going back and rewriting it. I figure you guys waited a while for this, so here. On an exciting note, the next chapter is the end of the first episode and Nicky and Skye talk about Italy, so you guys'll find out what happened there. Follow, favorite, and review if you feel so inclined, and I hope you enjoy this somewhat crappy chapter!

 **Rating:** T (for language and violence).

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Marvel or any characters seen here except for Nicholas Latimer and any OC you may recognize.

 **Editing:** All editing is done by me, all mistakes are my own.

* * *

 _Chapter Four_

 **September 25, 2013 – The Bus, 5:41PM**

"Sir?"

Nicky and Coulson both turned to Simmons as she entered the briefing room, Fitz in tow. Ward continued to work on his sniper rifle, outfitting it with the correct attachments for the mission. Nicky's fingers were fiddling with a pistol in his hand, trying to keep himself busy.

"He didn't explode because he was angry." Jemma sighed before continuing, coming to a halt before Nicky and Coulson. "The two are connected. It-it's kind of a chemical surge. But calming him down will buy him a minute at most. He _will_ detonate within the next few hours."

"Solution?" asked Coulson, his face grim.

"Isolate him, get him away from people," said Simmons.

"Or?"

"Put a bullet through his brain," said Fitz, looking up at both men for the first time.

Coulson and Nicky exchanged a look and Simmons plunged on. "If he's dead, the irradiated metabolic process will stop."

A muscle in Nicky's jaw twitched at FitzSimmons bluntness. "He has a son," said Nicky quietly. "We can't let him die."

Coulson nodded in affirmation at Nicky's statement. "Latimer is right. We need to come up with a third option, one that doesn't involve Mike's son losing a father." He nodded his head to Nicky and the two turned to go back to the monitors.

"We have a couple hours at most, there's no way that we could possibly—" tried Simmons.

Nicky felt Coulson go rigid beside him and whirl around, marching up to Simmons. "Don't ever tell me there's no way!" he said loudly before lowering his voice only a fraction, "It's on you. Get it done."

Nicky raised a brow at Coulson as he came back into the briefing room while Ward packing his sniper. "You good, mate?" Nicky asked Coulson. He'd never heard the older agent so angry. Well, there had been that one time in Rome, but that had been a dark time.

"Fine," Coulson replied shortly. One of the monitors beeped and Coulson hit a button. "May?"

"He took Skye," came May's voice a second later through the computer system.

Coulson's jaw clenched and Nicky went stiff. Every bit of hostility he'd been feeling toward the young hacker since he told her about Italy instantly vanished. "Who took her?" The words had left Nicky's mouth before he could stop them. Coulson shot a glare at him, and Nicky glared right back.

There was a pause on the line. "Peterson."

Ward even looked up, seeming _slightly_ concerned. Nicky opened his mouth to speak again, but Coulson's hand came up, freezing the words in his throat.

"You all right?" Coulson asked.

"We'll deal with that later. At length," growled May. "Right now, we need to figure out where they went."

"Skye's not stupid," said Nicky smoothly as he attached a silencer to barrel of his pistol. He cocked it back and snapped it forward. "She'll let us know where she is."

"Latimer's right. May, stay on the lookout for her and keep on the line. I'll call back as soon as we have a location." Coulson hung up and looked at Nicky. "You really think she'll get a hold of us?"

Nicky shrugged. "She reminds me of someone. If she's even half as curious as they were about SHIELD when they first got signed on, she'll come back to us."

"Okay, seriously, Coulson? We're listening to the mercenary now?" groaned Ward. "Isn't his job to just shoot things?"

"In fact, mate, it is. I think you make a pretty good 'thing'. Don't you think Ward makes a good 'thing', Coulson?" Nicky drawled, pointing a finger gun at Ward and pretending to shoot him. A smirk spread across the cocky mercenary's features as Ward stiffened.

"Both of you, shut it," snapped Coulson, glaring at both of them. "Let's get down to the hangar."

Without so much as a word, the two men followed. Ward finished up packing up his sniper rifle and Nicky holstered his pistol. The three men made their way down the hallway to the spiral staircase. On their way to the ground level, Fitz and Simmons seemed to have a bit of trouble in the lab. A high pitched beeping emulated from the computer Fitz was sitting at while Simmons scolded him.

Raising an eyebrow, Nicky wandered over to the two, Coulson in tow.

"…someone's hacking our secure channel!" said Fitz.

Nicky's hands came down on Fitz shoulders, startling the small engineer. A huge grin spread across Nicky's face. "That would be Skye, my smart friend."

"Skye? But—"

"It's longitude and latitude," interrupted Coulson. "Mike took Skye. She's telling us where." A look of approval crossed Coulson's face as he looked at Nicky. "Just like Latimer said she would. Let's go."

Nicky followed Coulson to the black SUV where Ward was in the driver's seat already. Nicky climbed in the back and kept quiet as the two men began discussing a strategy to get Skye back. A pang of regret hit Nicky the more he thought about her. He'd been short with her earlier, after he'd spilled the beans. It had been a nearly year and a half since Nicky's mission in Venice had gone askew. The memories were still fresh in his mind. Nicky still heard Piper's voice occasionally in the back of his head. The pain was still raw.

Still, he shouldn't have been that rude to Skye. It wasn't her fault. In some twisted way, it was Coulson's for injecting him with the truth serum and his own for signing on with SHIELD again. Nicky would never forgive himself if something happened to Skye. He liked the young hacker. She was a breath of fresh air compared to all the uptight agents that he was going to be surrounded by.

"Union Station," said Coulson. "Latimer, were you listening?"

"Yeah," Nicky lied. "Just refresh my memory."

Ward rolled his eyes in the mirror and glared at Nicky. "Could you pay attention for two minutes?"

"I could," said Nicky. He looked at an imaginary watch on his wrist. "And…you're on the clock."

"Just follow my lead," said Coulson as Ward pulled up to the curb.

The three men got out of the car and Coulson carried a bullhorn with him. The sidewalks were busy and Nicky's throat constricted. He hoped to God they could find Mike and Skye in time.

"Look at this place," said Ward as they walked. "You're going to risk thousands of lives over some nobody."

"Everybody's a somebody," snapped Nicky harshly, glaring at the agent. He had a hard time believing anyone could be that cold. Even if it was Grant Ward.

"Latimer's right. Nobody's nobody, Ward," said Coulson, a hint of pride in his tone.

Ward scowled at Nicky. "How many times a day am I going to have to get used to you saying 'Latimer's right'?"

"A lot, mate," Nicky drawled. "You'll find that it's because I usually am."

"Yeah? Save your ego for someone who cares."

"Boys, behave," silenced Coulson. "FitzSimmons will come through for us."

The three men stopped before Skye's blue van, the one Nicky had been inside only hours earlier. There was no one in the front seat or passenger side, but he sincerely hoped all three were in the back and, as an afterthought, that Skye was unharmed.

Coulson held up the bullhorn and pressed a button. The machine beeped, instantly amplifying Coulson's voice. "Mr. Peterson. Good evening. We're not a threat. We're here to help. But you're in danger and we need to take you in." Coulson dropped the device to his side and the men waited for a response.

There was a muffled yell inside and then nothing. Silence. The policemen surrounding the vehicle shifted uneasily. Before anyone could do anything, the door on the side of the van flew off. The policemen dove to the side and Coulson, Ward, and Nicky hit the ground. The door went overhead and Peterson climbed out, holding a child in one arm and Skye's arm in his other hand. The fugitive from SHIELD took off in a dead sprint.

Nicky recovered quickly, stand up and pulling his pistol out of his holster. Next to him, Ward also stood and for the first time, the two men were at an understanding. They both took off together after Skye and Peterson, guns out.

Inside, the train station was buzzing. Voices all around filtered in and out of Nicky's head, disorienting him. He lost sight of Peterson and Skye and cursed lowly, coming to a stop, Ward skidding beside him. He didn't look at the agent. "Do you see him?"

"Lost visual," growled Ward.

"Well, he can't be that hard to find. Skye'll think of something."

Nicky felt Ward's gaze and looked over to the other man. Ward was looking at him critically. "Why do you have so much faith in her?"

Nicky shrugged, a bit of a grin tugging at his lips. "Because she reminds me of me. And who else am I gonna have faith in if I don't have it in myself?"

"You know, for a mercenary, you've got a way with words," noted Ward.

"I'll take that as a compliment, so thanks, mate."

"Yeah, whatever. You got eyes on them yet?"

Just then, Nicky heard a yell and watched as a man flew into the air, landing a few feet away. The area had cleared and about twenty yards away stood Mike Peterson. Skye and his son were nowhere in sight. "Yeah, I think I have a visual." Peterson still hadn't seen them. "Ward, go around back, get him in a hold."

"What are you going to do?" Ward demanded.

"I have no idea."

"Fair enough," Ward grunted and disappeared into the crowd.

Nicky didn't stay to watch Ward get his ass kicked. He scanned the multitude of people around him until he found the one he was looking for. A purple shirt caught his eye in a mass of drab colors and Nicky took off in a sprint, hoping to god it was the hacker he was looking for.

He dove through the masses of people and finally caught the woman's arm. He breathed a sigh of relief when Skye whirled around to face him, but yelped as dropped his gun to catch her hand, which was closed in a fist and flying towards his head. "Do you really want to punch me right now? Because I think we could find a better time to do this."

"Nicky, thank god," Skye breathed. "We have to get out of here."

"No shit," Nicky growled. His made his way over to the door Skye had been running for and pounded on it. It was locked. "Of course, that's fantastic, this whole thing is just—" Nicky didn't get to finish. An arm knocked him to the ground with more force than Nicky thought a human was capable of. Just then, a shotgun went off, and Nicky's eyes widened as he watched the buckshot hit the desk a few feet in front of him.

His eyes focused on Mike Peterson, who had Skye firmly in his grasp once more. She was trying to fight him but it wasn't much good as he kicked down the previously locked door before them. The two took off and Nicky groaned as he tried to get up. He felt a swift kick to his gut and grunted. A man in a police uniform smirked at him. "Stay out of this, Brit. This isn't your fight." He disappeared through the door.

Nicky frowned and struggled to his feet, looking around for his sidearm to no avail. "Isn't my fight my ass," he grumbled and began to jog as fast as he could in the direction that Skye and Peterson had gone. After a bit of looking, he finally found them. Well, one of them. He'd cleared the floor just as Mike Peterson got hit with the buckshot from the man in uniform's shotgun. Skye was on the floor. The man cocked his gun again.

"Not today," grunted Nicky, breaking into a dead sprint for the man. He hunkered down and collided with the man, football style, and the two slammed into a wall. The shotgun flew out of the man's grasp and Nicky sent a solid punch to the man's nose. He was knocked out instantly. Footsteps approached and Nicky looked up. Agent May skidded to a halt before him.

"Well, I came to help, but it looks like you had it covered," she said dryly.

Nicky got to his feet, cradling his sore hand. "Yeah, well…it would have been nice downstairs a few minutes ago."

"Sorry. Traffic." If May sounded anything, it wasn't sorry.

Nicky's eyes went to Skye. She was propped up on the ground, her eyes a bit wide. "Thanks," she managed, her voice a tad too breathy for Nicky's liking.

He hobbled over to her and held out his good hand. She grasped his forearm and he hauled her up, bracing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes critically roving her figure. She looked unharmed, for the most part.

"Yeah, I-I'm fine. Now that you took out that guy, anyway."

Relief crashed through Nicky's chest, only to be dashed a moment later. Angry yelling sounded from the ground floor of the station. Nicky and Skye locked eyes.

"Peterson," they said.

Nicky looked at May, who had raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, they're this way."

Nicky, Skye, and May made their way back down the stairs to the ground level of Union Station. Mike Peterson was standing at the base of two large staircases. Coulson stood a few feet in front of him. Around them, _actual_ policemen paraded people out of harm's way. Nicky looked around as Skye and May jogged up to Coulson. Ward caught his eye a moment later, perched overheard, his sniper rifle in place.

Nicky honed in on Peterson's words as he continued his speech.

"You think this is killin' me?" he demanded, holding up his arm and pointing to the centipede-like device on his arm. "All over, there's people being pushed down, being robbed. One of them tries to stand up," he grunted, wrenching a large metal structure out from the wreckage, which he ruined when he fell, "you gotta make an example out of him."

"You bring this building down on us, will that help them?" Coulson asked, his voice a façade of calm. Nicky had to give the older agent props. His voice would have probably shaken had he tried to talk to the super powered man.

"That's a lie!" roared Mike. "All you do is lie!" He swung the metal piece into the rubble behind him, knocking down what was left of the sign. His voice had calmed down when he spoke next, as he walked idly, slowly towards the two agents, the hacker, and the mercenary. "You said if we worked hard…you said if we did right…we'd have a place. You said it was enough to be a man. But there's better than man," he said, spreading his arms wide. "There's gods. And the rest of us? What are we? They're giants. We're what they step on."

The man was a mere five feet away from Nicky now. He was more relaxed than he thought he'd be. He let his eyes flicker over to Skye, who looked heartbroken. May's face was stoic as ever. He returned his gaze to Mike Peterson, who looked utterly defeated.

"I know," said Coulson calmly, "I've seen giants. Up close. And the privilege cost me. Nearly everything. But the good ones? The real deal? They're not heroes because of what they have that we don't. It's what they do with it.

"You're right Mike. It matters who you are."

Mike had broken eye contact with Coulson and looked at the floor. "I could, you know?" he said, his voice breaking. "Be a hero."

"I'm counting on it," said Coulson.

Nicky smiled a bit at that, warmth flooding his system.

That warmth drained mere seconds later.

There was a silenced gunshot, Nicky's ears trained just enough for him to be able to hear. Peterson fell to the ground. A soft gasp tore from Skye's lips and May went rigid. Coulson and Nicky both turned to look where Ward was stationed as Simmons rushed to Peterson, kneeling over his body.

Ward stood with Fitz at his post, an odd, silvery type gun in his hand. Nicky knit his eyebrows together and frowned, looking back at Simmons. Simmons, who had an expression of pure relief written all over her face as she smiled and nodded at Coulson.

Peterson was alive. FitzSimmons found a cure.

Nicky let loose a sigh of relief and ran his hands through his hair as May signaled the paramedics in to gather Mike. Fitz gave all of them a thumbs up and Nicky returned the gesture. Coulson smiled at Nicky and then his gaze flitted from him to Skye, then back to Nicky.

The two unofficial SHIELD members looked at each other as Coulson's voice rang throughout the otherwise silent train station. "Subject is in stable condition. All clear at Union Station."

"Well," said Nicky, shrugging at Skye. "Maybe SHIELD isn't so bad."

Skye let loose a breathy laugh and walked over to Nicky pulling him into a hug. "No, I guess not," she muttered in his ear. "Look, if you ever need to talk about what happened in the interrogation room—"

"You know what?" Nicky interrupted her, pulling away.

"What?"

"I think I'd like that."

A smile broke out on Skye's face, her eyes lighting up. "Really?"

"Really," Nicky confirmed, smiling back. "It's been a while since I opened up about what happened there…I think it's time."

"We'll talk back on the jet, then?"

"Yeah," Nicky said, feeling like a giant burden had just been lifted off of his shoulders. "Yeah, we'll talk."


End file.
